Tad's House
by Kayf
Summary: What happened at Tad's house after Jimmy left a mess of eggs upstairs, and a pile of beaten preps in the yard. ONESHOT. Warning: Child abuse


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bully.

I made this because I really love Tad and wanted to get inside his head and his home life. And I wanted to portray his relationship with his father, and Tad's desire to please him even though the man is abusive. Please review! :)

Tad's House

Tad rubbed his jaw where he'd been punched quite hard just a few minutes ago. He winced in pain, knowing a bruise would soon form there. That pain was quickly replaced by a feeling of deep dread as he gazed at the upstairs room. The marble floor, the ceiling and chandelier, the expensive paintings and furniture...all of it was covered in egg yolk and white shells.

"Oh it's worse than I thought!" he panicked. When Tad glanced at the egg-splattered clock, he nearly fainted. How was he going to clean it all up in time? "Mummy and daddy will be home any minute!"

A glimpse of hope was in sight as Tad remembered he had a few assets outside. He whirled around and opened a window, only to see those "assets" limping away from his front lawn. "Wait! Get back here and help me!" he yelled desperately to his friends.

"Sorry, Tad!" Bif called back as he helped a nearly unconscious Parker Ogilvie walk away from the Spencer property. Chad Morris and Gord Vendrome trailed behind Bif, barely able to see the ground in front of them after that assault from Russell and Jimmy.

"You don't understand! You _must_ help me!" Tad cried out. But it was no use. He quickly ran downstairs and made a sharp turn into the kitchen. He rummaged around in the cabinets until he found a bucket and a few rags. "Drat.." he muttered after a failed attempt to fit the large bucket in the kitchen sink. He grabbed some cleaning chemicals and rushed off to the bathroom to fill the bucket in the tub.

"Oh hurry.." he pleaded with the water as he waited for the bucket to fill. He imagined what the look on his father's face would be like just before the beating came. Tad bit his lip nervously, his hands starting to shake as that feeling of dread welled up inside him again.

He moved slowly up the stairs with the heavy bucket, soapy water swaying back at forth, spilling over the edges and onto the steps. He whimpered, looking back at the mess he was making. "It's only water. I'll worry about that later.." he muttered when he got to the top of the stairway, turning his full attention to the real mess in the upstairs hallway and rooms.

Setting the bucket on the floor, he set to work right away, wishing the maid hadn't gone home already. The egg yolk came off of the floor easily, but there were too many rooms. His bedroom, and that of his parents, both had eggs flung into them and now had the yolk embedded in the carpet. Not to mention the walls, doors, and furniture.

There was no way he could clean it all.

This realization sunk in deeper, making tears form in Tad's eyes and fall to the floor, mixing with the soapy water. Like always, the suspense that came with waiting for his punishment was often as bad as the punishment itself. He hated to disappoint his father.

Suddenly the phone rang. Tad sniffed back some tears and answered the phone in a shaky voice, "Spencer residence.."

"Tad? It's Bif."

"Yes. What is it?" Tad asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice.

"I just got home, and I saw your dad's car driving past my house. Did you clean up the eggs yet?"

Tad's heart sunk. "No." He answered pathetically, and hung up the phone before the other prep could utter another word. Bif Taylor's house was a few short blocks away. Tad was doomed.

He looked around the room, trying to decide what to do first. He could try to clean up, even if he didn't get all of it. At least his dad would see that he tried. That idea was quickly dismissed, knowing full well that it would make no difference to his father. Instead he went to the bathroom to do something about his tear-stained face. He couldn't avoid a beating, but if he could avoid crying his father might not call him a sniveling coward.

When Tad finished drying his face with a towel, he was startled to attention by the sound of a car in the driveway. He rushed down the hall, sliding on slippery egg yolk as he did so. He caught his balance and ran down stairs. The front door opened, just as Tad stepped onto the last stair and slipped on the water he'd spilled earlier, falling to the floor in front of his parents.

Mr. And Mrs. Spencer paused in the doorway, looking down at their son. Mrs. Spencer, with short, curly blond hair, and wearing a lovely lavender gown had a concerned look on her face, "Tad? Why are you on the floor?"

Her husband stood next to her, in an expensive black tuxedo, auburn hair done neatly for the party, and a face so similar to Tad's grinning widely.

Tad scrambled to his feet, "No reason mum. I just tripped. How was the party?"

"Fantastic." Mr. Spencer said, the grin still on his face as he put an arm around his wife's waist. "Wasn't it dear?"

Mrs. Spencer smiled, "Absolutely."

It was a rare moment. Mr. Spencer being civil and kind towards his wife. And she seemed happy next to her husband. Not at all scared, like she often was. Not crying from the beatings, or the verbal abuse.

Tad was ashamed, knowing that he was now going to ruin it.

"I'm thinking of having a company party at our house soon." Mr. Spencer said, the happy grin still on his face as he headed into the kitchen. Tad followed his father, standing in the doorway as the man poured himself a glass of water.

"Father, I have to tell you something." Tad said.

"What is it?" Mr. Spencer didn't look at Tad, figuring whatever he had to say would not be important.

"Father, a kid from school today.."

"Now don't even think of whining to me about being bullied at school, Tad." his father warned, "I've shown you how to defend yourself."

Mr. Spencer's way of showing Tad how to defend himself was to perform those painful haymakers and punch combos on his son, never holding back, then asking Tad to do the same to him. Tad was too scared, of course, to hit his father back. So his dad would slap him around for being a weak coward.

"No it's not that. A kid from school, he... he egged the house, dad."

Mr. Spencer paused, now turning his gaze to his son. "Where?" he demanded calmly, but the anger was apparent in his voice.

"I-it's all over the upstairs rooms.. I-I tried to clean it up!" Tad tried to explain as his father grabbed his shirt collar.

"Come with me." Mr. Spencer growled, dragging Tad along.

"Dad, it wasn't-"

"Shut up!" his father cut him off, and Tad quickly closed his mouth.

Mrs. Spencer was already upstairs. She'd gone up with the intention to change her clothes, while Tad and his father went to the kitchen. But when she had seen the mess, she'd started crying over her valued collectibles that were now ruined.

Mr. Spencer's face went red with fury when they got upstairs. Tad tried to take a step back, his heart broken at the sight of his mother crying, but his father's strong grip kept him in place.

Mr. Spencer turned his son to face him, grabbing both of his arms. "How the hell could you let this happen!?" he screamed. Tad winced, cringing at his father's harsh voice. His father roughly shook him when he didn't get an answer, gripping Tad's arms harder, "Do you see your mother crying?!"

"I'm sorry daddy! But I couldn't stop him!"

"I don't want your damn excuses!" his father yelled as he punched Tad in the face. Again and again, he punched him.

One more punch and Tad was on the ground. His father stood above him, tossing his jacket to the side, and yelling at his hysterical wife to shut up. Tad winced and looked ahead at the rag and bucket in front of him. "Then what _do_ you want?" he asked, getting to his knees and reached for the rag. _'Maybe if I just start cleaning up again..'_ he thought.

But his dad yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to his feet again, "Don't talk back to me!" he yelled.

"I didn't mean it like that.." Tad said, only to feel the back of his father's hand slapping him across the face, powerful enough to send him flying back to the ground again.

Tad stayed down. Several quick and painful kicks to his stomach and chest knocked the wind out of him and made his back arch.

"Oh please stop.." Tad's mother cried, coming closer to her son.

Her husband grabbed her wrist to pull her away and slapped her across the face. "Why don't you go wait downstairs?" he scowled.

"Just don't hit him anymore.." she said bitterly, black mascara streaks on her face. She backed away and went downstairs as she was told.

"Sure sure. I won't hit 'im anymore." Mr. Spencer muttered to himself when she left, grabbing Tad's arm and pulling him to his feet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later and Tad was still cleaning the house, his bruised muscles ached as he scrubbed and swept every inch of mess. All he really wanted to do now was lie in his bed and sleep. His parents had gone to bed an hour ago, after his father made Tad get the yolk out of the carpet and off of the walls in their room.

He sighed, setting the mop aside and gazing down the hallway. It looked as clean as could be, though his mother's beloved possessions were missing. He put the cleaning supplies away, all the while cursing Jimmy Hopkins for what he'd caused.

He finally entered his bedroom, relieved he could rest at last. As Tad pulled off his Aquaberry vest and unbuttoned his shirt, he made an examination of the welts on his body, then looked in the mirror at the bruises on his face. His first reaction to his battered body was a bitter wave of emotion sweeping over him.

_'Does he always have to hit mum? She didn't do anything. Mum had nothing to do with what happened today...' _Tad frowned, taking a last glance at the bruises on his torso before buttoning his Aquaberry pajama shirt. _'But I had almost every member of our group here under my command today. Even Bif! Derby would have been impressed by my leadership..' _Tad mused, trying to find something good about today's events. _'...So why isn't father proud of me?'_

Tad sighed and pulled the covers over himself as he lay down. He suddenly smiled as a new thought entered his mind,_ 'Father should be proud. I didn't cry at all when he hit me. He didn't call me a coward or weak either.. I'm __**not **__weak. And someday I'll get back at him.'_


End file.
